The Iliad by Homer (pride and prejudice read .TXT) 📖
- Author: Homer
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Some God hath been his guard, and Hector sav’d, Whose arm hath slack’d the knees of many a Greek: So will he now; for not without the aid Of Jove, the Lord of thunder, doth he stand So boldly forth, so eager for the fight.
Hear, then, and all by my advice be rul’d: Back to the ships dismiss the gen’ral crowd; While of our army we, the foremost men, Stand fast, and meeting him with levell’d spears, Hold him in check; and he, though brave, may fear To throw himself amid our serried ranks.”
He said: they heard, and all obey’d his words: The mighty Ajax, and Idomeneus
The King, and Teucer, and Meriones,
And Meges, bold as Mars, with all their best, Their stedfast battle rang’d, to wait th’ assault Of Hector and his Trojans; while behind, Th’ unwarlike many to the ships retir’d.
The Trojan mass came on, by Hector led With haughty stride; before him Phoebus went, His shoulders veil’d in cloud; his arm sustain’d The awful AEgis, dread to look on, hung With shaggy tassels round and dazzling bright; Which Vulcan, skilful workman, gave to Jove, To scatter terror ‘mid the souls of men.
This on his arm, the Trojan troops he led.
Firm stood the mass of Greeks; from either side Shrill clamours rose; and fast from many a string The arrows flew, and many a jav’lin, hurl’d By vig’rous arms; some buried in the flesh Of stalwart youths, and many, ere they reach’d Their living mark, fell midway on the plain, Fix’d in the ground, in vain athirst for blood.
While Phoebus motionless his AEgis held, Thick flew the shafts, and fast the people fell On either side; but when he turn’d its flash Full in the faces of the astonish’d Greeks, And shouted loud, their spirits within them quail’d, Their fiery courage borne in mind no more.
As when two beasts of prey, at dead of night.
With sudden onset scatter wide a herd
Of oxen, or a num’rous flock of sheep, Their keepers absent; so unnerv’d by fear The Greeks dispers’d; such panic ‘mid their ranks, That vict’ry so might crown the Trojan arms, Apollo sent; and as the masses broke,
Each Trojan slew his man; by Hector’s hand Fell Stichius and Arcesilas; the one,
The leader of Boeotia’s brass-clad host, The other, brave Menestheus’ trusted friend.
AEneas Medon slew, and Iasus;
Medon, the great Oileus’ bastard son,
Brother of Ajax; he in Phylace,
Far from his native home, was driv’n to dwell; Since one to Eriopis near akin,
His sire Oileus’ wife, his hand had slain: And Iasus, th’ Athenian chief, was deem’d The son of Sphelus, son of Bucolus.
Polydamas amid the foremost ranks
Mecistes slew, Polites Echius,
Agenor Olonius; while from Paris’ hand An arrow, ‘mid the crowd of fugitives
Shot from behind, beneath the shoulder struck Deiocus, and through his chest was driv’n: These while the Trojans of their arms despoil’d, Through ditch and palisades promiscuous dash’d The flying Greeks, and gain’d, hard-press’d, the wall; While loudly Hector to the Trojans call’d To assail the ships, and leave the bloody spoils: “Whom I elsewhere, and from the ships aloof Shall find, my hand shall doom him on the spot; For him no fun’ral pyre his kin shall light, Or male or female; but before the wall Our city’s dogs his mangled flesh shall tear.”
He said; and on his horses’ shoulder point Let fall the lash, and loudly through the ranks Call’d on the Trojans; they, with answ’ring shout And noise unspeakable, urg’d on with him Their harness’d steeds; Apollo, in the van, Trod down with ease th’ embankment of the ditch, And fill’d it in; and o’er it bridg’d a way Level and wide, far as a jav’lin’s flight Hurl’d by an arm that proves its utmost strength.
O’er this their columns pass’d; Apollo bore His AEgis o’er them, and cast down the wall; Easy, as when a child upon the beach,
In wanton play, with hands and feet o’erthrows The mound of sand, which late in play he rais’d; So, Phoebus, thou, the Grecian toil and pains Confounding, sentest panic through their souls.
Thus hemm’d beside the ships they made their stand, While each exhorted each, and all, with hands Outstretch’d, to ev’ry God address’d their pray’r: And chief, Gerenian Nestor, prop of Greece, With hands uplifted tow’rd the starry Heav’n: “O Father Jove! if any e’er to Thee
On corn-clad plains of Argos burnt the fat Of bulls and sheep, and offer’d up his pray’r For safe return; and thine assenting nod Confirm’d thy promise; O remember now
His pray’r; stave off the pitiless day of doom, Nor let the Greeks to Trojan arms succumb.”
Thus Nestor pray’d; loud thunder’d from on high The Lord of counsel, as he heard the pray’r Of Neleus’ aged son; with double zeal, The Trojans, as the mind of Jove they knew, Press’d on the Greeks, with warlike ardour fir’d.
As o’er the bulwarks of a ship pour down The mighty billows of the wide-path’d sea, Driv’n by the blast, that tosses high the waves, So down the wall, with shouts, the Trojans pour’d; The cars admitted, by the ships they fought With double-pointed spears, and hand to hand; These on their chariots, on the lofty decks Of their dark vessels those, with pond’rous spars Which on the ships were stor’d for naval war, Compact and strong, their heads encas’d in brass.
While yet beyond the ships, about the wall The Greeks and Trojans fought, Patroclus still Within the tent of brave Eurypylus
Remaining, with his converse sooth’d the chief, And healing unguents to his wound applied, Of pow’r to charm away the bitter pains; But when the Trojans pouring o’er the wall, And routed Greeks in panic flight he saw, Deeply he groan’d, and smiting on his thigh With either palm, in anguish thus he spoke: “Eurypylus, how great soe’er thy need, I can no longer stay; so fierce the storm Of battle rages; but th’ attendants’ care Will all thy wants supply; while I in haste Achilles seek, and urge him to the war; Who knows but Heav’n may grant me to succeed?
For great is oft a friend’s persuasive pow’r.”
He said, and quickly on his errand sped.
Meanwhile the Greeks, in firm array, endur’d The onset of the Trojans; nor could these The assailants, though in numbers less, repel; Nor those again the Grecian masses break, And force their passage through the ships and tents, As by a rule, in cunning workman’s hand, Who all his art by Pallas’ aid has learnt, A vessel’s plank is smooth and even laid, So level lay the balance of the fight.
Others round other ships maintain’d the war, But Hector that of Ajax sought alone.
For that one ship they two unwearied toil’d; Nor Hector Ajax from his post could move, And burn the ship with fire; nor he repel The foe who came protected by a God.
Then noble Ajax with his jav’lin smote Caletor, son of Clytius, through the breast, As tow’rd the ship a blazing torch he bore; Thund’ring he fell, and dropp’d his hand the torch.
But Hector, when his eyes his kinsman saw By the dark vessel, prostrate in the dust, On Trojans and on Lycians call’d aloud: “Trojans and Lycians, and ye Dardans, fam’d In close encounter, in this press of war Slack not your efforts; haste to save the son Of Clytius, nor let Greeks his arms possess, Who ‘mid their throng of ships has nobly fall’n.”
At Ajax, as he spoke, his gleaming spear He threw, but miss’d his aim; yet Lycophron, His comrade, of Cythera, Mastor’s son
(Who flying from Cythera’s lovely isle With guilt of bloodshed, near to Ajax dwelt), Standing beside the chief, above the ear He struck, and pierc’d the brain: from the tall prow Backwards he fell, his limbs relax’d in death.
Then Ajax, shudd’ring, on his brother call’d: “Good Teucer, we have lost a faithful friend, The son of Mastor, our Cytheran guest, Whom as a father all rever’d; who now
Lies slain by noble Hector. Where are then Thine arrows, swift-wing’d messengers of fate, And where thy trusty bow, Apollo’s gift?”
Thus Ajax; Teucer heard, and ran in haste, And stood beside him, with his bended bow, And well-stor’d quiver: on the Trojans fast He pour’d his shafts; and struck Pisenor’s son, Clitus, the comrade of Polydamas,
The noble son of Panthous; he the reins Held in his hand, and all his care bestow’d To guide his horses; for, where’er the throng Was thickest, there in Hector’s cause, and Troy’s, He still was found; but o’er him hung the doom Which none might turn aside; for from behind The fateful arrow struck him through the neck; Down from the car he fell; swerving aside, The startled horses whirl’d the empty car.
Them first the King Polydamas beheld,
And stay’d their course; to Protiaon’s son, Astynous, then he gave them, with command To keep good watch, and still be near at hand; Then ‘mid the foremost join’d again the fray.
Again at Hector of the brazen helm
An arrow Teucer aim’d; and had the shaft The life of Hector quench’d in mid career, Not long the fight had rag’d around the ships: But Jove’s all-seeing eye beheld, who watch’d O’er Hector’s life, and Teucer’s hopes deceiv’d.
The bow’s well-twisted string he snapp’d in twain, As Teucer drew; the brass-tipp’d arrow flew Wide of the mark, and dropp’d his hand the bow.
Then to his brother, all aghast, he cried: “O Heav’n, some God our best-laid schemes of war Confounds, who from my hand hath, wrench’d the bow, And snapp’d the newly-twisted string, which I But late attach’d, my swift-wing’d shafts to bear.”
Whom answer’d thus great Ajax Telamon: “O friend, leave there thine arrows and thy bow, Marr’d by some God who grudges our renown; But take in hand thy pond’rous spear, and cast Thy shield about thy shoulders, and thyself Stand forth, and urge the rest, to face the foe.
Let us not tamely yield, if yield we must, Our well-built ships, but nobly dare the fight.”
“Thus Ajax spoke; and Teucer in the tent Bestowed his bow, and o’er his shoulders threw His fourfold shield; and on his firm-set head A helm he plac’d, well-wrought, with horsehair plume, That nodded, fearful, o’er his brow; his hand Grasp’d the firm spear, with sharpen’d point of brass: Then ran, and swiftly stood by Ajax’ side.
Hector meanwhile, who saw the weapon marr’d, To Trojans and to Lycians call’d aloud: “Trojans and Lycians, and ye Dardans fam’d In close encounter, quit ye now like men; Against the ships your wonted valour show.
E’en now, before our eyes, hath Jove destroy’d A chieftain’s weapon. Easy ‘tis to trace O’er human wars th’ o’erruling hand of Jove, To whom he gives the prize of victory, And whom, withholding aid, he minishes, As now the Greeks, while we his favour gain.
Pour then your force united on the ships; And if there be among you, who this day Shall meet his doom, by sword or arrow slain, E’en let him die! a glorious death is his Who for his country falls; and dying, leaves Preserv’d from danger, children, wife, and home, His heritage uninjur’d, when the Greeks Embarking hence shall take their homeward way.”
His words fresh courage rous’d in ev’ry breast.
Ajax, on th’ other side, address’d the Greeks: “Shame on ye, Greeks! this very hour decides If we must perish, or be sav’d, and ward Destruction from our ships; and can ye hope That each, if Hector of the glancing helm Shall burn our ships, on foot can reach his home?
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